


self-flagellation of the psyche

by intoxicated_by_our_lies, skydork (orphan_account)



Series: Canon Compliant Star Wars Fics [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Protective Obi-Wan, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:49:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7266988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicated_by_our_lies/pseuds/intoxicated_by_our_lies, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/skydork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe one day I'll be what you need, but don't wait too long. The day you want me may be the day I've finally given up." A different turn to the battle on Mustafar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	self-flagellation of the psyche

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. 
> 
> Sorry for any out of characterness from either Anakin or Obi-Wan, first time writing in the fandom for Toxic and first time with this character for Klisma, so apologies now if we get any terminology wrong.
> 
> intoxicated will be writing Anakin, and klisma will be writing Obi-Wan.

The sight was consuming him.

 

It felt as though he was being torn asunder from the inside out, an icy urge chilling him to the very core, rooted so deep in Obi-Wan’s body that there seemed no way of ever escaping it. Containing the grief was too pertinent, as it always had been, but his soul felt shattered, like mirrors splintering into pieces as he watched his former apprentice writhing on the ground, so pained it seemed as though it would swallow him whole.

 

The blood was slipping free, Anakin’s body lying limbless in front of the Jedi, his cries suddenly hollow echoes that encompassed everything, so clear that Obi-Wan nearly felt surreal. His body seemed far too small of a sudden, brittle, as though he could hardly hold himself up. The weight of the words was still in the air, echoing still as though they weren't just a fleeting memory.

 

Perhaps they weren't. _I loved you!_ Obi-Wan had screamed, and in that instant, whatever barriers had been in front of him had been obliterated, crumbled away into oblivion that ate at his body and made a sickness well in his gut. It was painful, bonesmashing, searing _agony_ at the onslaught of emotions passing through him, Anakin’s disturbingly enraged expression worming it's way into his vision and behind his eyelids.

 

And Obi-Wan couldn't fathom what made him reach out to take the young man's broken body into his arms, let his hands curl underneath his torso as the red seeped out from the ends of his remaining limbs, dismembered and strewn across the ground before him, his tunic wrapped tightly around Anakin's exposed flesh. He could hear his gasps, breaths heavy and heady, almost as though he could hardly take in the air.

 

And the screams were so vivid, constantly snapping at him and tearing through his ears- _IHATEYOUHATEYOUHATEYOUOBIWANKENOBI, YOURENOTMYMASTERYOUMEANNOTHINGTOME-_ like a sudden blow that knocked the wind from his lungs and made his throat close up tight as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

 

_Where did I go wrong? What did I do to lose him so greatly, to break him down into this? Perhaps if I had tried harder, let him know that I always cared… perhaps if I had said it before, only a little sooner, the agony could have been spared. There is no erasing this memory, no rebuilding the shields again..._

 

“Perhaps I can right the wrongs I have dealt you, young one.” The Jedi master is hardly certain he can allow this to rest in the past, isn't certain he can ever overcome what has happened here, not like this, and not after all that has become of Anakin’s betrayal.

 

But he can try. Perhaps there is hope after all- in him. Padmé had said there was still good in him… and Obi-Wan had to keep that alive. _I need him. Force, don't let me lose him as well._

* * *

 

As soon as he can see a flash of natural sunlight coming through his vision, he tried to scream. His entire body was in searing pain, with his “remaining” limb seemingly tied to the wall. He wasn’t quite sure why, not when all he could truly focus on was the fact that _he could still feel them, could feel his limbs there, all the pain..._ the pain was too great for something to just not be there… it’d be impossible if it wasn’t.

 

How was he alive still? It didn’t make sense… the blood lost, the volcano... _Padme._ He should be dead. Should’ve been burnt up in the hot lava, be just a corpse made of melted skin without any unique identification to anyone. Who… Palpatine? Did he find him and bring him back? No, he would’ve known if he did… would’ve woken up to being surrounded by Stormtroopers rushing him, Palpatine watching him. It didn’t look like a ship at all, really- at least not one he knew. Looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it to anywhere he knew as of right now.

 

Anakin tried to move his head, but was unable to position it as much as he had hoped to. A drug, he thought. Something powerful enough to immobilize him, but that probably didn’t need to be much… he was so tired, even without a drug, and really did just want to lay his head down and rest more…

 

_Padme._

 

Her name was still running through his mind, like it was a memory that was stuck in some old clunky droid that couldn’t make it stop playing. How was she? Was she… did she survive? He wasn’t that rough with her, knew that he felt her gentle, beautiful heart still beat. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that she was alive- she had to be.

 

He needed to be with her. Needed to make sure that his baby was safe, that his _wife_ was safe. She was so terrified, needed him so much during their fight right before he decided to use the Force on her and just… kriff, he fucked everything up. Always seemed to with her, even if she was the love of his life and needed to be with him forever.

 

There was a sound from right above him.

 

It snapped him out of his thoughts so quickly that he was forcing what little strength he had in his body to his so that he was arching his hips forward, a loud scream escaping his throat like some sorry, ridiculous battle cry from a whiny child.

 

“F-fuck! O-Obi-Wan!” he wasn’t quite sure why he was screaming his name, almost forgot about his master for the quickest of moments… did he bring him here? Was this why he was abandoned in this room with no source of comfort? Did… was he attempting to bring him back to Master Yoda and the others? Was he going to have him executed for becoming a Sith? He was betraying him… he already knew this, even had a battle about this all… but now, knowing that he was completely disabled, fallen to his mercy alone… it felt different acknowledging it.

 

“G-get your ass in here! I-I hate you! F-fucking fight me!”

 

The echoing voice in his ears was barely nullified by the new screams that were pressing against the inside of his skull and crushing it so roughly it blurred the line of gentleness and insanity. And insanity it was, to have lost himself in this harrowing mess of emotions, those which had been repressed factor long to simply… free themselves.

 

Obi-Wan covered his eyes with a hand, wiping the sweat lining his brow away with a sigh of exasperation. He didn't have the time to deal with correcting Anakin’s formalities, not when it was downright destroying him to be in the same room with the newly crowned Sith. No, even facing him gave Obi-Wan a greater sense of regret than he's ever known, completely removing the Jedi from himself.

 

He didn't want to be here, didn't wish to speak… it seemed a necessity, something that was slowly creeping up on him and his conscience, making him frustrated and aching. His head spun, dizzy from the absence of distance, far too penetrate for anything to remain hidden.

 

“I trusted you.” He says, running a hand through his red-brown hair and shaking his head, muscles tensing as he gazed at the ground, vacantly, hardly himself at all. The darkness, it seemed, was wearing on him as well. And then he was looking down at Anakin- _his_ Anakin- and spitting, “ _Do you know what you've done to me?”_ He doesn't give the man a chance to respond, “ _You broke me. You betrayed me. Undid me. Pledged yourself to a different master. All of my life, undone, for_ you.”

 

Anakin’s breathing became worse the further he heard the other spoke, basically just coming out as angry snorts, showing his clipped, semi-white teeth. “Y-You betrayed _me_ , you **_bastard!_ ** **”** He was screaming, half crying now as he tried to push his head up further to stare at his former master. “Y-you should’ve left me to die! I-I hate you. I hate you!”

 

He couldn’t force out anything else, his chest suddenly becoming tighter as his throat clogged up with bile and tears ran down his face. He wanted to see his wife, wanted so desperately to see what became of his child… needed that so much. Wanted to disappear, never have to see Palpatine or Obi-Wan again, just… They could travel to Naboo and hide out for the rest of their life, just like she said, raise their kid and be happy…

 

“Y-you make me sick!” he snapped, beating his head against the metal frame below him. Again. And again. “Pa-Padme! Padme!”

 

“Padme is dead,” Obi-Wan breathes, his throat tense, barely able to force the words from his lips. It only furthers the pressure of his head, his insecurity from his youth suddenly returning tenfold in front of Anakin… Anakin, who had been his life. Who was _still_ his life… who he had been too weak to save and too weak to kill.

 

“Anakin… Anakin. Listen to me.” His voice is small, barely a hint of its usual self, nearly inaudible. The words do not stick, do not sink in, hanging between them like stones weighing everything down. Obi-Wan swallows, and he continues. “I know. I know I have failed you… I know I will always be nothing more in your eyes than a master who never cared. I have… ruined you. I cannot apologize for the grievances I wrought.”

 

He took the seat beside the hard cot, hand resting on the edge ever so lightly, desperate to extend and reach for his fallen padawan, to feel his skin against his, perhaps for the last time. He wasn't even certain where their paths were going now… simply that it was away from Coruscant, and away from the past. It was all Obi-Wan could ask for.

 

“My dear Anakin…” There was so much he wanted to say, so many words that faded just as they touched the tip of his tongue, drove him insane with the burden. He couldn’t face it, had no room for the… apologies, or the memories, or the pain. So he swallows, he shuts his eyes, and breathes, “Forgive me. I should go. Get some rest.”

 

_Padme. Padme. Padmemychildmychildpadmepadme._

 

His entire body collapsed underneath his words- he refused to believe that his wife was dead, his child was dead, his former master had betrayed him, and… kriff, his entire body was nothing but dead weight. There was nothing he could do to repair himself, no matter how many surgeries or body replacements he could possibly have…

 

“F-fuck you!” he screamed, tears leaking down his face now, struggling against his bindings. “I hate you, I hate you! You killed Padme! You killed my wife! I hate you!”

 

* * *

 

 

There was a nauseating feeling that washed over him the second he stepped out of the room, glancing down at the small droid humming around by his legs, beeping in annoyance. “No, it isn't alright,” was all the former master could manage, turning away from the door to gaze at the flat expanse that lay beyond the windows.

 

Strangely, even docking hadn't eased the tension in his muscles. Nothing seemed to work, only stretching him even thinner as time wore on. It was draining him, the Force no longer humming with the same overwhelming presence it once had, only presenting him with an abyss, an endless amount of _darkness_ …

 

Darkness. It terrified Obi-Wan in a way nothing had, and yet… it weighed so heavily in his mind. When Anakin had tried to sever their bond… when he'd fallen, let someone else become his master, forsaken the Jedi and all that they stood for… it had snapped. There was so much he had lost, so much someone as young as Anakin could never understand.

 

He had never felt so alone as he did now. When Qui-Gon died, he had left him Anakin, and years of Obi-Wan’s time had been spent watching the boy grow… comforting him during his nightmares, those nights spent sleepless from self-doubt and worry… it was a comfort to him as well. Knowing that someone was there for him, with him… someone who _loved him,_ even in spite of his berating and devotion to the council. There was nobody else he would meet who could shift his heart in the way Anakin had. Nobody he knew so well, so… _intimately,_ even.

 

He was attached to the boy.

 

“He has forsaken me…” the words were uttered with such defeat it was impossible not to feel the resignation. There was… nothing. Nothing to be gained in this madness. He'd not saved Anakin… he'd only decimated their relationship. Brought even more pain to himself… to Padme. _She would never have wanted this._

 

And the notion that _maybe this was always what was to happen,_ never seemed to leave his mind. _You were supposed to destroy the sith, Anakin! Not become one!_ He'd said that, hadn't he? And all he'd done was… push him into this.

 

 _No._ Obi-Wan decided. He couldn’t afford to think like that… he needed to focus on Anakin. On what mattered… what he had left. Losing Anakin… if he was gone, what was to happen from then on? Would he fall as well? Certainly, Obi-Wan had always been much more adept at keeping himself in check… but a life with nothing was hardly worth living. It was as though the loss he'd experienced with Qui-Gon had been multiplied, time and time again until there was no room left in his heart for healing.

 

His feelings were worth _nothing._ They might never be worth anything. The boy he'd raised, the man he'd fought beside, _Anakin Skywalker,_ was gone now. And perhaps Obi-Wan Kenobi had disappeared along with whatever of him had been left.

 

_I loved you. I still-_

 

* * *

 

 

It felt like eternity had passed after Anakin had finally stopped screaming and let his body just collapse.

 

_Padme, his precious wife, was dead._

 

_His child was dead before he even got the chance to meet them._

 

Everything in his life had turned into complete shit now, the things that meant most to him were gone. Nothing that he could possibly do would make it better. This wasn’t… no, it wasn’t _fair_ . He worked so hard, to make sure that the love of his life wouldn’t die in childbirth, and… then he killed her. He tried to protect her, but in the end, just like always, _just like how Obi-Wan implied,_ he messed it all up.

 

It was just so much… he _didn’t mean to._ He was just trying to look out for her- _save her_ . All those kriffing nightmares he had, they messed up his head. All he ever wanted to do was help her. Wanted to protect her from _dying_ , Palpatine said he’d be able to if he joined him… did he mess it up? He should’ve _killed_ his former master.

 

Maybe it would’ve saved her.

 

He was crying again, unable to hold back loud sobs that practically tore out of his body with little restraint. Anakin needed Padme here... needed her so fucking much, needed her to know that everything he did was in her best interest. That he’d never hurt her intentionally. That he loved her, loved their unborn baby…

 

There was the sound of a door scraping against the floor, awful scratching against the thin dirt of the ground, before Anakin was half shooting up from his position, as much as he possibly could, eyes glinting with malice. There was an unspoken enmity in that gaze- flickering between gold and blue, such a dark expression that Obi-Wan nearly flinched.

 

But he didn't. He shook his head, brushed it off as he always did- as though it were nothing more than a regular glare, not _Anakin_ trying to sear his skin from his bones with a single glance.

 

“You're awake again,” was all he could say. His mouth hardly wanted to move, the words like lead in his throat, his vision fuzzy as he glanced across the room to his apprentice, before quickly crossing the floor, placing a hand on his head and leaning down to readjust the tourniquet on his severed leg, before undoing it and pulling it loose quickly.

 

Fumbling for the roll of bandages kept on the shelf, he quickly set to work on bandaging Anakin’s rough stumps, the wounds still clean, although his made sure to coat the inside of the wrappings with a light antiseptic before hand. Anakin was snarling at him, lashing out with words the former Jedi could hardly hear over his own pounding head, the throbbing of words, voices that were lost…

 

 _Qui-Gon,_ he thought. _I am not sure I can do this. I can't bring Padme back from the dead… Anakin... Where did I go wrong?_

 

He's barely able to speak, half wants to relinquish his voice and never hear it again. There's a tremor in his shoulders, leaning over Anakin and trying to shield himself from his own tears… his own sorrow. He bites his tongue, looks back toward the door.

 

“I should be able to get something in the way of prosthetics tomorrow… for now you need rest.” Obi-Wan half slumps against the wall, pressing circles into his temples with a rough, ragged intake of air. “I have failed you again, Anakin. It seems as though I cannot do anything right… I should have shielded you from the darkness. Should have… encouraged you more. Should have taken care of Padme over you… I can still hear her crying.”

 

He looks up, startling when he watches Anakin attempt to sit up further, confusion on his face. “You were… everything to me. My brother, my best friend, my…” he bites his tongue. “That isn't of any concern to you. Forgive me. I take it you do not wish to hear of such trivial matters…”

 

All of his talk of caring for him, of wanting to further protect him… _it sounded so sickeningly fake,_ he could hardly contain himself from growling, “D-don’t you dare ever talk about Padme like that! You… you should’ve protected her, should’ve done something more!”

 

 _I hate you,_ he thought to himself, forcing himself to lean against the cold metal walls behind him.

 

Some time last night, Obi-Wan had decided to switch off his restraints, which he was thankful for. He barely had enough strength to sit up, but it was a relief to be able to move enough as it was. Looking down at his body, he cringed at the last of appendages sticking out. They still burned ominously, the heat burned permanently into his flesh. It hurt so much, but there was little he could possibly do to help himself. That was his consequence for the fight in the volcano with his former master.

 

A part of him wished that Obi-Wan would’ve continued with his speech, but another almost felt disgusted with this thought. He hated the older man with every ounce of his being, and nothing would ever change that. Not if he tried, at least. If he was ever given the chance to kill Obi-Wan, he’d probably take it just for the sake of vengeance.

 

“W-why…?” He asked, licking his torn up lips, breath again coming out in weak pants, suddenly finding himself exhausted now. “Why didn’t you l-leave me to die?”

 

It was a question that kept going through his head off and on his entire stay. He should’ve left him to die- he’d be punished by what remained of the Jedi Council, probably disbarred by them if they knew he decided to heal him… why would he ever allow him to be safe? It didn’t make sense. Why couldn’t he have just saved Padme instead?

 

“I-I…” he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t help but trail off, gently sliding off the wall and back into the metal bed. It hurt too much to move now.

 

“You have many questions, young one,” Obi-Wan said simply, pushing himself away from the wall to turn his back to Anakin, uncertain of his ability to speak as long as he was facing the young man. Taking in those flashing eyes, messy gold hair… his dismembered limbs… it brought back too many thoughts, flooded him with regret and a sick wrench in his chest that he should not have.

 

“I have much to explain, and yet, I find myself wondering why I should explain it to you at all- you are… _were…_ my life, Anakin. I cannot hate you- I cannot find it in myself to hate you, even after everything you've done… you were my apprentice. You were my… _everything-”_ and Obi-Wan cuts himself off with the tremor in his voice, shoulders shaking and arms reaching up to cover his face, as though it would muffle the harsh sob that parted free.

 

He covers his eyes with one hand, covers up the emotion and tries to reign it back in, take hold of everything leaking from his energy, radiating through the force- he didn't want Anakin to understand. He didn't want to _feel_ Anakin’s anger, enmity, self-pity… _and yet he did._

 

There was no escaping it.

 

Obi-Wan let his hands fall back at his sides, turning around and stroking his beard softly as he watched the Sith prop himself against the wall, still staring at him. “I am no longer a Jedi, Anakin. I am simply nothing- nothing but what you see before you. A former mentor, one who wishes to do for you what he could not do for himself.”

 

The last part takes awhile to force out, and when it finally rolls from his tongue, it seems foreign even to his ears. It is… lost, listless, confused and _real._ Emotional. “I know I have never told you… that I loved you. I am… very proud of the man you've become. But you are not the man I knew- you are not the man Padme knew. And somehow I am no less proud of you… you were, in fact, the only thing I ever needed in order to be certain that I had done something right in my life. I _love_ you, Anakin. Is it wrong, that even now… I could not let you die?”

 

He didn’t respond, only continued to stare at the much older man. There wasn’t anything he could say to him, was there? No snide comeback, no ‘I hate you’; nothing. It was almost like all the possible words he could say to his former mentor had been ripped out of his throat, and replaced with bile that just refused to come out in any way, shape, or form.

 

Anakin closed his eyes, trying to ignore how the tears were falling down his face, leaking into his mouth. There was no doubt or falsehood in his voice, and… _it hurt knowing that all he was saying was the truth._ It didn’t make sense to him… he hated him, hated him down to his core. Obi-Wan should’ve returned his hatred.

 

When he finally found the words to say, Obi-Wan was half turning away, almost out the door.

 

“Y-you’re a fool, Obi-Wan Kenobi! Y-you gave all of that up for _what_ ? It’s… it’s ludicrous.” he wiped his face free from the tears with his prosthetic arm, shaking. “Now, we are nothing… Padme is dead, you have broken your vows, I am permanently broken, the Republic is gone- you are nothing! _I_ am nothing.”

 

He broke into a sob. “You should’ve just left me to die.”  

 

Anakin was almost sure that he could hear Obi-Wan smother back a cough, unable to tell what he was trying to hold back by doing so- it was unspoken, but the air between them was so sick it nearly hurt to breathe.

 

Obi-Wan turned toward the door, and said, simply, “You are everything. The Republic is dead. And it is selfish, I know- I suppose I'm following your path on that one, my apprentice.” A sigh.

 

“I am nothing _without you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to all who comment on our trash. :)


End file.
